


Damaged

by ddagent



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Future Fic, season 4 speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7697044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from the Daisy hunt, the first person Phil seeks out is Melinda.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damaged

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven’t posted anything since mid-June, and I’ve been struggling to find the time/energy to write since then. But finally we have this! A huge thank you to my writing partner righteousnerd who has had to listen to me come up with a billion ideas of how to get myself back into writing; and to those who I also moaned to - you’re all stars. I hope you enjoy the story!
> 
> FYI, this story is based on season 4 speculation from the recent press release. So, minor spoilers for season 4.

Everything about Phil Coulson felt stale. He hadn’t showered; he’d hardly slept; and he’d barely eaten in days. Sweat had dried in rings underneath his armpits, and there were coffee stains on both collar and hem. There was an ache in his bones; a weight in his eyes. Agents that passed him in the halls looked straight through him; either not recognising the former Director of SHIELD or choosing to ignore him. 

Phil knew the halls of the Playground better than most. He now walked them like a ghost. 

His entire head felt like it was underwater. It was only the sound of Mack’s hand pounding the locker in front of him that jerked Phil back into the land of the living. “You say something?” 

Mack opened his mouth before thinking better of it. “No. Just...get some rest. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” 

“Couple of-” Phil wet his lips; his tongue feeling like sandpaper. “We have to brief the Director.” 

“We already did.” Mack’s dark eyes narrowed; his hand reaching up to click once, twice, in front of Coulson’s eyes. He seemed concerned with what he saw. “Coulson, get some sleep. I’ll see you in a couple of days.” 

“Sure. Okay.” 

Mack shouldered his backpack, heading out of the locker room for the bike he stashed in the corner of the Playground; right beside the tarp that covered Lola. Phil stood, hand hovering over the combination lock of the locker in front of him. Six months ago he’d had an office. Now he had a locker, with his name scrawled across a strip of masking tape. Inside were clothes, shoes, a bottle of half drunk whiskey. A  _Captain America_ trading card was pinned to the inside just like in high school. Most of his things were still in boxes. But he’d rescued the whiskey, the trading card. The faded, fraying snapshot of him and May back at the Academy. 

The door to the locker room opened. Phil blinked heavily, trying to separate the images of Melinda May with her arms wrapped around his neck, and a concerned Mack staring at him from the doorway. “You gonna be okay, Coulson?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m gonna head out to the Academy. See May.”

“Good. Maybe she’ll stop calling me every fifteen minutes if you talk to her.”

Phil felt the corners of his mouth lift. “I doubt it.” 

His partner offered him a warm, if worried, smile before he left him alone. Phil shoved the picture and a change of clothes into his bag before heading out in the same direction. The Academy was half a days drive from the Playground. There was gas in Lola’s tank, but Phil didn’t enjoy the idea of spending that long inside his own head. Thankfully, a quinjet was dropping off a couple of agents who had been out on medical leave. He decided to hitch a ride.

He sat opposite the agents on the way out: two cadets recruited since the new Director had taken charge. Young; idealistic. Wanted to be part of the _new_ SHIELD. A SHIELD that better represented the United Nations and the World Security Council. A SHIELD that barely had a place for men like him anymore. 

Phil watched, eyes heavy, as the two agents talked in hushed tones. Occasionally one of them would touch the other: fingertips brushing the curve of a knee, hand resting over upper thigh. A level one field agent could tell that they were sleeping together. The boy, a couple of years out of college, kept checking his watch. “Shit. If we keep this speed up we’ll be back in time for training with The Cavalry.”

Phil bit down on the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to snap at the two agents. _Some stories never died._ He wondered, just for a moment, what stories were told about the last Director of SHIELD. Did they _have_ any stories? Or was he lost in the history books, a muddled reference to the time between Fury and their new Director? 

“We’re landing in five minutes, grab your gear.”

The duffel bag by his feet was half empty. Clothes, shoes, a picture. Phil stared at it, his gaze unyielding, as they made their descent into the Academy hangar. He didn’t look up until the two agents left, escorted by one of the Operations Instructors. As he got to his feet, the pilot - Agent McCarthy - gave him a nod. 

“It’s good to see you, sir.”

He swallowed. “You too. How’s your son?” 

“Good.” McCarthy grinned. “Playing peewee soccer now.” 

“ _Nice_. Hey - take care of yourself.”

“You too.” 

Phil gave McCarthy a brief nod before turning away, heading for the rear entrance of the quinjet. He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes immediately taking in the sight of the new Academy. He’d signed off on the schematics; seen it briefly via video link the handful of times he’d talked to Melinda. But he’d never seen the Academy in the flesh. Operations, Science and Technology, Communications. Their former Academy had been built on the bones of history; old SSR buildings. This place was steel and chrome; digital and clinical. Inside, the smell of fresh paint caught at the back of his throat. 

He gagged. 

Adjusting the weight of his duffel bag on his shoulder, Phil stared at the map of the Operations building. Back in the day, Melinda could either be found in the sparring room or in his dorm. Now he didn’t know whether she had her own bunk or a place off campus. It would probably take him half an hour to find the sparring rooms. Phil took an educated guess and decided to try the training grounds. In his day, such training had involved a bullet ridden safe house that doubled as make out point. This place had adaptable environments, dummy rounds, and even a drop zone for aerial assaults. 

Back when he and May were at the Academy, they were thrown out of a helicopter with nothing more than a parachute and good wishes.

Walking around the new SHIELD Academy, Phil marvelled at how much had changed. They had been given the funding for state of the art technology and facilities. The training grounds even had an observation deck with heart monitor read outs and dummy round counts. He propped himself up on a chair, looking out onto the makeshift battle field. At the time, Phil had been surprised when Melinda didn’t challenge her new posting. But as a specialist with thirty years of experience, fighting everything from Hydra to alien gods, she was an incredible asset.

Maybe some things didn’t change. Whether it was in the field of battle or in a training ground for new recruits, Phil still felt safer whenever he was near Melinda May. 

Suddenly a buzzer went off, and the house lights went up. The cadets, about ten of them struggling in their tactical gear, shuffled forward so they could be debriefed. Phil slung his bag over his shoulder and headed down to the tactical floor so he could greet Melinda there. No one cast an eye in his direction as he approached. Phil kept his pace slow, savouring the sight of Melinda May. The last time they’d been together in person had been a few days after the new Director had been appointed. They had drunk themselves under his office desk, and into a long overdue but barely discussed kiss. 

_God he’d missed her._

Melinda was halfway through her debriefing when the distracted looks of her cadets became too much to ignore. She turned, scowl already in place, before seeing him for the first time in three months. Stubble, coffee stained shirt and all. He’d just been on assignment. She looked at him the same way she had after he’d returned from Maveth. 

“Okay, you’re all dismissed. Be here seven am sharp, we’ll do this again.”

Phil waited until each one of the cadets trailed out of the training room; more than one turning back to catch a further glimpse. They stared at the other, waiting for the soft _snick_ of the training room door as it closed. He approached gingerly, eyes soft as he took her in. “Seven am start, huh? You going soft, May?” 

She didn’t answer. She just swallowed him up in a hug. Wiry arms wrapped tight around his neck; short nails digging into the shoulders of his jacket. Melinda’s head rested just beside his. Phil took in a deep breath, enjoying the weight of Melinda’s body pressed against his. His arms slotted around her back, pulling her closer. He could smell her almond shampoo as her hair pressed against his cheek. Melinda was warm and clean and bright: everything that the last few months had not been. 

But then he felt cold, and Melinda was standing away from him. “You’re back early.” 

“Yeah.” Phil swallowed, dropping his gaze for the first time since entering the room. For the last three months, all he’d wanted to talk about was Daisy. Now it was the last thing on his mind. “Me and Mack have got a couple of days leave before we’re reassigned.” 

Melinda nodded, her arms crossing over her chest. “You look like hell. Simmons keeps calling, asking if you’re eating right and getting enough sleep. I keep telling her I don’t know.” 

“I meant to call you back.” 

The look she gave him pierced right through his lie. “We can talk about that later. Right now, I’m just glad you’re here.” 

“Me too.” Swallowing, Phil adjusted the shoulder strap of his duffel bag; his feet shuffling in worn sneakers. He stared at Melinda, watched as her arms fell from in front of her. He wanted to hold her again. He wanted to feel that warmth again. Instead, he changed the subject. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. How’s the food here?”

A snort. “I’ve had better. There’s a bar not far from here though. Good burger. Good beer. My treat?” 

Phil felt himself grin; Melinda’s warmth radiating through his bones. “Sounds good to me.”

“Good. I have another session I need to prep for, but meet me here in an hour?” Phil nodded. “Locker room is down the hall, second door on your left.” She took a step forward, her fingertips brushing against his own. “You need a shower.” 

Melinda left him with a smirk as she headed back out into the Academy halls. Smelling the front of his shirt, Phil realised she was right. Maybe after a clean change of clothes, a good meal, and some time with Melinda, Phil would feel more like himself again. 

He hadn’t felt like himself in a very long time. 


End file.
